Adventures in Grocery Shopping

I don’t usually accompany my wife on grocery shopping forays because in the long run it cuts down on marital stress and strain. But what with the Super Bowl coming up and all the specialty items a man needs for the event I ventured out alone a while back. It gave me a new appreciation for what I soon learned is a hazardous and time consuming occupation. It started out familiarly enough when I got the usual square wheeled shopping cart they always seem to reserve for my shopping pleasure.

            It didn’t take long for me to get lost in that maze of aisles as the cart bumped along in a vain search for my favorite brand of chips and dips. The search in itself required an extraordinary amount of  broken field running ability in order to avoid those driving down the wrong side of the aisle, backing up without warning, or just plain stopping to visit with other shoppers. When I finally made it with only minor injuries I discovered to my dismay the store was out of my favorite brand. So I collared a passing clerk to see if they had any in storage. He immediately tried to sell me, with little success I might add, on the newest and most improved chip and dip products. His lack of success obviously angered him to the point that he finally sneered that he’d check on my request. About thirty minutes later when the lad had not returned I took it for a no and proceeded to my next destination.

            Enroute to the beer section to procure another necessary staff of football life I encountered a major traffic jam. A somewhat portly lady seated in one of those electric carts the store provides was blocking traffic. She was in the midst of a tirade over why the cart would not move. The object of her ire was a skinny grocery stocker kid who finally persuaded her to let him examine the cart. She dismounted the vehicle and waddled over to lean against a handy post so he could check it out. After a couple of minutes he told her that it seemed to be in good working order so she shot right back that if he was so smart why didn’t he try to make it go. Working under the premise that the customer is always right the kid got in the cart, turned on the key, and floorboarded the accelerator. That machine actually reared up on its back wheels and burned rubber as it sped down the soft drink aisle and then absolutely destroyed a major display of Coca Cola. Turns out those things don’t work well with loads over four hundred pounds.

            By that time I was beginning to get a little jumpy, but I made it to the beer cases without further incident. There I stood with a six pack of long necks in each hand when not more than three feet behind me came the loudest screech I ever heard. Almost immediately something hit me in the bend of my knees with a blow akin to that of a line backer running at full tilt. Beer bottles sailed through the air like hail mary passes in the fourth quarter causing me to sprawl out on the floor amidst a foamy glass impregnated mess. You would be surprised at what a four year old child can do when left unattended in a grocery store.

            I had intended to pick up an array of other snack items along with some sort of dessert to see me through the game, but in the interest of getting out of the place alive and with my sanity intact I limped back home empty handed. Later I persuaded my wife who is a hardened veteran of an untold number of grocery store campaigns to do the chore for me.